House of Orange
by Neku the Last Reaper
Summary: For centuries Netherlands had solved the world's relationship issues, even though he hated being the one they all came to for help. But when it's time for the World Cup, will the pitch let him discover something he thought he didn't need? Sequel to CoP!
1. Waking Up in Germany

**A/N:** I know everyone came here looking for Netherlands as the main character right of the bat. He will be the main character but it'll take a couple of chapters to really take over. I wasn't quite sure how to write him so I started with my familiar friends of Norway and Denmark. These first two chapters or so are more the bridge between House of Orange and Come on Pants. Please enjoy!

I don't own Hetalia; even if I did I'd still use it to pick my World Cup brackets from now on.

* * *

Norway yawned and tried not to fall asleep on the table, the sun coming through the window of the classroom in Germany's house was very warm and soothing. He hated warm weather for the simple reason that whenever it got really warm out he turned rather sleepy. His head drooped towards his folded arms while his gaze drifted out of the window to the clear sky and vibrant green trees. That was until he heard Germany's voice crack like a whip through the air directed at him, "Norway what is the proper response for this transgression?"

"Sir the proper response is to give the player a second yellow card followed by a red and eject him from the match! After you show him the red card you write his name in the book along with the foul and time sir!" The drowsy nation shouted hastily.

Germany nodded. "Correct!"

The reason for Germany's drill sergeant personality resurfacing was that the World Cup referee committee had decided that the previous host nation would be a perfect choice to drill this Cup's referee nations. Norway's desk mate Lichtenstein smiled at him, "good job, that was a really difficult question."

"Thanks," Norway replied trying not to yawn in her face.

He blinked slowly and stared at the projector screen with the new clip playing. The new clip was of one of Argentina's teammates running up to the goal and punching the ball into the back of the net. Three rows back England grumbled glaring across the way at Argentina, the infamous "Hand of God" move had been at England's expense so it was only natural he be bitter about it.

"Now, how many of you would have counted that as a goal?" Germany asked glaring around the room.

No one raised their hands, mostly because they knew that it a. shouldn't be a goal because it was a blatant handball, and b. Germany was just that intimidating. He smiled, "correct." His eyebrow twitched, then he threw a sharp pencil through the air, imbedding it in the wall behind Norway.

The Nordic felt his heart fall into his stomach, had he been caught napping? Or worse had he been caught gazing out the window or across the way at Denmark? He ran over what he could have done to nearly have his head taken off by Germany until the nation shouted. "No making out in class!"

Norway and Lichtenstein chanced a glance behind them, and sure enough, Prussia was pinning America up against the wall. Both of the nations looked rather panicked, partly because the entire room was staring at them, with several taking pictures, and partly because Germany's shot had split America's idiot curl that represented Nantucket cleanly in half. "Come on West! We weren't doing anything serious!" Prussia complained until another pencil hit the first, splitting it cleanly down the middle and dousing both of the nations in question in pencil lead dust.

Just then, Italy waved his arms from the front row. "Nee nee Germany! Will there be pasta served? Because you said I could have pasta then we could play." He gazed up at the blond nation hopefully even though his eyes were closed.

"Alright you have fifteen minutes to eat. Then we will me outside for some serious physical training." Germany ordered sternly pulling out a pocket watch.

"If you know what he means," Prussia added in a sarcastically snide tone.

"The troublemakers will stay behind, the rest of you are dismissed." Germany roared glaring daggers at his brother and America.

Norway and Lichtenstein fled the room to their assigned lockers, and then both retrieved their lunches heading out to the pitch. A few minutes later Belgium and Ukraine joined them. "This training is really scary. Germany is so strict." Ukraine cried. Iceland had run a fever and told them to go to referee training without him. Norway and his friends had decided to adopt Ukraine into the fold despite the ever-present threat of Russia.

"He's strict but I've definitely learned a lot." Belgium agreed before she tucked into a crepe. She paused while swallowing, "but what's the deal with the offside rule? Someone want to explain that one again?" They exchanged glances with one another before shrugging. Even Germany had seemed baffled by the new offside rule upgrade. Though the four nations had to give him credit for trying to explain it, even while trying to keep Brazil and Argentina from either killing each other or making out. It was love and hate bordering on war with those two, especially concerning the beautiful game.

Norway thought for a moment reflectively, "even though he's strict, Germany's not harsh unless he needs to be. He's not at all like he was before he met Italy." Norway had been a sort of prisoner in Germany's house during World War Two and even though Germany's boss had been insane, the nation himself had never done anything mean. The Germany from before WWI had been harsh and militaristic and would follow any orders. The Germany post Italy was kind even though he'd never lost his strict side.

"Quiet section nine! You only have one minute left to eat!" Germany shouted angrily from his spot by the goal sharing a meal with Italy and basking in the sunshine.

The group turned pale then hastily finished their meal. They walked over to the ball in the middle of the center circle where Italy had his foot on top and one of those cheap pennies kids wore in PE class. Still he looked cheerful in the bright pink, at least until Denmark walked over. Then he frowned and cowered behind Germany. "Now, we will put our training to good use, Italy and Denmark have graciously volunteered to play a friendly to let us practice. Belgium you'll take the role of main referee, Prussia and America shall be your line refs, Switzerland will be your fourth man, I shall be with you on the field to help out! The rest of you will sit in the stands to observe this match! Dismissed!"

Norway started to retreat into the stands before Denmark flung himself onto the smaller Nordic.

"Hey Nora! Come play with me! I'm sure Germany won't mind!" He licked Norway's cheek lightly.

The smaller Nordic wasn't sure if Denmark was trying to be dirty, but it still had the effect of turning him bright red. He shoved the larger nation off with a frown, "later, I promise. Now get out there and do your best."

He grinned cheekily and charged the field. "AWESOME TRIO SOUND OFF!"

"THE HERO IS READY!" America announced from the line at the top of his lungs.

"THE AWESOME ME IS THE LANCER!" Prussia added in, possibly even louder than America.

"AND THE BIG GUY'S GONNA KICK SOME GRASS!" Denmark finished off.

Before they could finish their motto, several bullets flew through the air grazing their hair, and in one case clipping off part of Nantucket's already damaged follicles. From the sidelines, Switzerland stood holding a pair of smoking pistols. His normally attractive features had contorted to extreme anger. "If you cause any more trouble for Belgium then you will all die." The normally neutral nation threatened.

The Awesome Trio swallowed in unison and backed down instantly. Denmark meekly shook hands with Switzerland and Belgium, but gave the line refs each the Awesome Trio secret handshake. Then he shook hands with Italy, exchanging a small banner and patch with the other nation. Italy would get first possession, which was just fine by him.

They walked to their places and Belgium blew the whistle. After various fouls ensued Belgium whipped out three yellow cards in the first half. She sent the teams off for half time heading up to Germany, who'd put on his Clark Kent reading glasses while he wrote. Just like the famed comic hero, the nation didn't actually need them; he just thought they made him look clever.

"Good work so far. Be careful in the second half. Romano likes to dive a lot, particularly when he's team is down." Germany addressed sternly.

Belgium saluted then ran back out for the second half. She handed out two more yellow cards, along with a red card to Denmark for trying to strangle Romano. Italy won in his traditional one to nothing style. They bowed out of the match, while Germany organized the referees and paced their ranks.

"I'm proud of all of you! After the final exams tomorrow, you will have four days off to return home. Say farewell to your loved ones, and search your hearts as to whether or not you wish to go through with this. Remember if you should succeed then few shall notice, but if you fail the world shall never let you live it down!" Germany stood at the head of the assembly. "Decide on who you wish to be line and second referees when you take the exam and report back before curfew! Do your best and never give up! Referee Training Corps Dismissed!"

Norway saluted then smiled over at Belgium, Ukraine, and Lichtenstein. "Do you want to be the test group?"

The group all nodded and agreed to it before reporting to Germany. The nation wrote their names into his schedule as the second group to go. Their test would be refereeing a friendly for about twenty-three minutes apiece, after which they would rotate out whom held what position. The team retired early, eager to be in top form for the next day. They woke up early for breakfast and a review of the rules before their turn.

Norway went first; he checked the players' equipment then snatched the game ball. The national anthems of Netherlands and Australia played followed by the two nations facing each other for the coin toss and gift exchange. Netherlands won and the two teams played ball. Norway found it to be a rather uneventful twenty-three minutes of game play, there were a few shots on goal from Netherlands, but the Nordic could tell that the nation in orange was holding back. He handed out one yellow card to an Australian player for an incidentally dangerous tackle. Soon enough his turn had finished and he rotated out with Lichtenstein. The Nordic worried about her since the younger nation was a lot smaller than both of the team captains, but she used her training from her older brother to intimidate the two much larger nations into a peaceful game until half time.

The four referees met with Germany for a brief review of performance before Ukraine took the field. Australia struck a hard pass across the field bending it dangerously close to Ukraine, she felt her eyes water but a brief thumbs up from Norway reassured her and she continued to keep pace with the game. She rotated out with Belgium for the last part of the game. The three sideline referees could tell that their friend had to physically restrain herself from red carding her older brother out of the game.

Netherlands, meanwhile, despite his laconically paced game, had set two shots cleanly into Australia's goal. Australia scratched his head at the end then shook hands while ripping off his shirt, "good game mate."

"You too," Netherlands pulled his shirt off, handing it over to Australia while tossing the green and yellow jersey over his shoulder. He waved over to Belgium, "hey sis. You want to go to dinner later?"

"No!" Belgium frowned and stalked away, mumbling to herself.

Germany stepped out of the stands to the four referees, "congratulations, you've all worked hard and passed the referee exam. I look forward to seeing you all at the World Cup in a month. Group B, dismissed!"

The four saluted then fell into a weird combination of a hug and a high five. "Wow, I never thought we could pull it off." Ukraine smiled.

"Definitely, I sure hope we end up working together." Norway smiled, he knew full well that the chances of that would be unlikely. Both nations and humans would be refereeing so there was a giant pool of talent to choose from. Still a nation could hope.

Lichtenstein giggled a little bit, "I have to go, Canada and I are going on a date to Italy's place. He's hired Veniziano to pilot a gondola for a private tour of Venice."

Belgium put her hand on her sort of sister in law's head, "be careful okay? Use protection and remember if something does happen, break it to your brother gently."

Lichtenstein's face turned a brilliant shade of red, "We're still easing into the relationship!"

"Course you are kiddo," Belgium kissed the smaller nation on the cheek. "Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She waved as Lichtenstein departed for her date. The nation faced her companions, both a little worried; they both knew that Canada and Lichtenstein were very responsible.

Ukraine smiled at them both, "I promised I'd go visit Iceland and make him some soup. He said his fever had gone down but I'm still worried. I hope I can make this recipe for licorice soup..."

Norway nodded and gave her a hug, "give my brother my regards."

Ukraine nodded and smiled, "I'll see you guys later!"

The two remaining nations waved farewell to the third and departed the stadium. They chatted casually before, "HEY NORA!" Norway collapsed to the ground under Denmark's weight and force of his tackle.

"I'll see you later Belle," Norway coughed for a moment. Belgium waved and proceeded back to the referee barracks. "Danma, you know you're very heavy. I mean it's all muscle and all, but I can't breathe!"

Denmark nuzzled Norway's neck, "I missed ya!"

"I saw you at breakfast two hours ago." Norway grumbled trying to sit up.

"I know but that was two whole hours without you Nils!" Denmark sat up pulling Norway up with him. "I love ya!"

"I love you too, I still can't breathe!" Norway choked weakly.

"Ooh sorry man! But you're done right? I mean you passed and all, right? So we'll be able to hang out together right?" Denmark released Norway enough to let the smaller nation breathe.

"Yes, Danma, I passed and I'm done." Norway noted. "So what do you say we go home to my place?"

Denmark pulled Norway onto his back somehow, and stood up excited. "Let's go then!"

* * *

**A/N:** For those who haven't read Come on Pants but are jumping in here, I know full well Nora is a girl's name in Norwegian. Denmark initially used it as a taunt name for Norway but now it's a pet name. Like I said earlier, perspective will shift once we get everything sorted out.


	2. Colors of the Fantasy

**A/N:** I'm still crying into my pillow from today's final, but still good job Spain. But did you really have to put on jerseys with stars on them five minutes after you won? Ah well, here's chapter two for your reading pleasure.

I don't own Hetalia; nor do I own the special game reference in the chapter.

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A few days before she would depart to the World Cup, Belgium yawned and kicked the door to her house open, throwing her briefcase onto the table. She walked over to beer tap on the wall of her kitchen and pored herself a nice frothy mug. Settling down onto her easy chair, she pulled out her laptop and worktop to check her personal email. Norway sent her an amusing set of pictures from his and Denmark's trip to visit Canada and Lichtenstein. England asked for some cooking advice, while Hungary had sent her monthly "International Legions of Slash Fans" newsletter with some interesting pictures of America and Prussia. When she finished she closed her computer before taking a swig of beer.

Suddenly the phone rang, "it's about time." She picked up, expecting Switzerland's nightly call. The nation only used his computer for work since he discovered he could function just as well as anyone else without having to pay for Internet in his house. That and he insisted he could talk much more freely on the phone.

On the third ring the nation picked up, "Hello, Belgium speaking."

"Hey sis," of all the people she expected, Luxembourg was on the other end.

"Lux, what's up?" She asked, her brother almost never called, he usually just dropped an email unless it was serious.

Her brother took a deep breath, "I haven't heard from Braam in a while, I'd go check on him myself, but I'm stuck working on a project with Roderich. I'm worried, since none of his friends have seen our sibling. Could you pop in and check on him? I'll work the last week of the World Cup for free. What'd ya say?"

Belgium frowned, if there was something wrong with Netherlands, she knew she'd need help. "I'll do it."

Luxembourg sighed with relief, "I'll stop in as soon as I can get out of this."

She smiled, "happy to help. See you later Lux."

"Later sis," Luxembourg hung up leaving Belgium sitting in meditative silence. She dialed up Switzerland and enticed him to join in. She frowned, wondering whom else she could get to help her. Dialing quickly she held up the phone to her ear.

In a dark bedroom, Denmark ripped of Norway's shirt pinning the smaller nation to the bed. His teeth had just started to assault his boyfriend's neck when Norway's phone buzzed against his thigh. "I thought I told you to turn it off." Denmark muttered heavily.

"I thought I did, it must have turned back on." Norway panted, his face flushed. His hand snaked down to try and grab it.

"Oh let it ring," Denmark frowned working on the other Nordic's ear with his tongue.

"What if it's important?" Norway retorted and pulled his phone out clicking the green answer button. "Norway," he announced hastily trying to get whoever it was out of his way. He hadn't bothered checking the caller ID because the light of his phone hurt his eyes in the darkness.

"Hey Nils, can you and Danma spare me a few days, my brother's gone missing, and Lux is worried about him." Belle addressed.

Denmark shoved his way over to the other side of Norway's neck, "course we'll help out! We owe ya! Now can I get back to making sure Nora can't walk tomorrow?"

Belgium's face turned red, "certainly." With that she abruptly hung up, only imaging what the two Nordics could be up to right now. She made dinner, and then read a new book by one of her favorite authors before heading to bed. Awakening the next morning, she cleaned up and ate breakfast before changing into some good traveling clothes. She packed up a backpack before trekking over to Switzerland's house.

Norway and Denmark were already there, sitting very seriously at the table. Both had some bread with cheese on a plate before them. Also at the table sat Switzerland, fingers folded while he thought, Lichtenstein, her arms wrapped around the last member of the table, Canada. Switzerland stood up as Belgium came into the house, "please take a seat Belle." He turned a little embarrassed while he gestured to the table.

"Thank you Vash," she gave him a brief kiss on the lips before sitting at the table. Picking up a slice of bread and cheese she put them on a plate before eating. "Mmm! We have to get this on the menu for the World Cup! I was thinking that we could have thirty two specials, each one a different dish from the participants!"

Switzerland closed his eyes trying not to get angry. He wasn't quite used to not being able to just shoot someone and get it over with. "Belle... I thought we were here because your brother was missing..."

"Come on Suzie lighten up!" Denmark declared, "this spread kicks ass though! Totally wicked food!"

Switzerland pointed a handgun at Denmark's head, "call me that again and I put this bullet into your head."

Belgium shook her head, "Vash what have we discussed? You can't just go around shooting people, use your words instead. Now put the gun down, and let's go find my stupid brother."

Norway stood up and made sure he had all of his first aid things. Switzerland frowned down at the food on the table, "I'll catch up with you after I pack all of this away." He packed everything into bags and distributed them as lunch totes to the group.

They nodded, and then departed for the trek to Netherlands place. They hopped on a train and arrived in Amsterdam a few hours later. The first place they checked was at Netherlands' house on the outskirts of the suburbs, in case he'd been injured or something. Denmark, despite Norway's reluctance, gleefully kicked in the locked door. The party spread out searching for any sign of the missing nation, Switzerland had distributed his collection of handguns he normally carried to the group in case robbers or someone like that had broken into his house. A few hours later they'd found no trace he'd been in his house.

Canada looked up from the European nation's computer. He'd checked the last date Netherlands had replied to a work email, it was to Canada confirming the delivery of ten thousand tulips to the other nation's house. Not wanting his girlfriend to see it, Canada clicked out of the email box. "He's not here. We should spread out around the town and look for him."

The Netherlands retrieval team agreed and split up around town after returning Switzerland's personal arms. Norway and Denmark headed out into town searching at the closest shop to the missing nation's house. It turned out to be a flower shop run by a nice old lady.

"Excuse me ma'am," Norway asked the lady. "Have you seen a man, about twenty or so, about the same height as my friend?" Unfortunately he didn't speak Dutch, so she frowned at him holding her hand to her ear and shrugging.

He searched his pockets and pulled out the picture he and his friends had taken at the Winter Olympics in February. Norway pointed at Netherlands then made a motion of looking for him. The lady smiled and pointed them down the street towards the edge of town. She picked up a bag of fertilizer, Norway struggling to help her out with lifting the fifty-pound bag. He passed it off to Denmark hastily.

She smiled at them gratefully saying something in Dutch, and then bustled the two nations out of her shop towards the green hills very far down the road.

Denmark grunted then stuck out his tongue, "urg, this smells like crap and it's heavy! What the hell is this?"

"Bat guano fertilizer, imported. I believe that nice old lady must have mistaken us for delivery men," Norway pointed down the road to the hills. "I told her we were looking for Netherlands and she pointed me in this direction, and I believe she told us to give him her best."

_"Don't tell me I gotta carry this imported crap all the way over there." Denmark whined, "I'm gonna smell for weeks!"

"I can tell you right now that a good bar of soap and a long trip in Finland's sauna, and you won't notice." Norway retorted as they pressed on towards the hills.

Twenty minutes later and they stood on the edge of a long rolling series of hills; all of the hills were covered in beautiful flowers. It wasn't the Keukenhof, but it could certainly give the world's largest flower garden a run for its money. Denmark set the bag down before collapsing on the ground. "What the hell? It's a field of flowers."

Norway gazed out over the field, off to one side was a small abandoned church. He could sense a spirit in there, maybe the spirit could tell him where Netherlands was. "Danma, I'll be back in a minute okay?"

He wandered along a narrow trail to the church and entered through the large pine doors. "Hello?" He saw two people sitting around, tending to some white and yellow flowers that had grown through a hole in the baseboards. One was a young man all in black with spiked back hair that matched his outfit. The other was a girl wearing a pink dress and short darker pink jacket with matching ribbon in her braided hair.

The girl looked up, "oh a visitor!"

"Hey there," the young man greeted.

Norway smiled, "I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but have you seen a tall man with spiky hair around here? His sister is looking for him and I'm worried about him."

The girl giggled, "he's on the next hill over tending the tulips and spider lilies."

"Thank you for your help," Norway smiled and waved.

"Before you go," she continued, "just know that you should be careful when dealing with a puppy in the near future. Whatever you do don't mention you saw us okay?"

"Um, okay," Norway, agreed more than a little confused.

As he departed the young man turned to his friend, "his friend reminds me of Spiky, just a lot taller. Why'd you warn him about the puppy? It's not like they'll be meeting until much later."

"Just a hunch," she smiled and put a finger on his lips before they disappeared to another church where flowers could grow in peace.

Back outside Norway found Denmark tromping through the flowers. Norway picked up the back and pulled Denmark on the path. "Don't step on the flowers. You're going to catch holy hell from the flower girl in the church and her friend."

Denmark looked into the church, "I don't see anybody. These two more of your imaginary friends?"

Norway shook his head and led the way along the narrow path to the next hill. Sure enough they found Netherlands standing around shirtless, wearing only a pair of underwear, holding a hose and watering a massive row of red tulips. "Netherlands, what are you doing?" Denmark shouted at the nation.

"I remembered I had to water the garden, then I saw that the chrysanthemums needed my help, so then I had to order some fertilizer, then I planted some new geraniums. So I had to order more fertilizer." Netherlands noted, his thin pipe shifting around as he spoke. He shut off the faucet to the hose, took the bag of fertilizer from Norway and departed towards the next hill. The two Nordics followed him.

"When did you realize that you had to do all that?" Norway asked alarmed.

"This morning," Netherlands noted before spreading the large bag out on a large bare patch of earth. He picked up the hose nozzle and attached it before watering again.

"Then why have ya been missing for two weeks?" Denmark asked confused.

"Has it been that long?" Netherlands glanced up at the sky.

"You mean you didn't notice the sun going down or coming up? What about food? Or a shower?" Denmark and Norway cried in unison.

"Just looked overcast to me, and lots of the weeds were edible. Plus I had the hose," he shrugged and unhooked the hose. "But I got everything done, we can go." He picked up the hose and started back down the trail.

The two Nordics turned and saw that the tulips he'd been watering when he found them were part of a massive Dutch flag of flowers. The red tulips, white lilies and blue violets covered the entire side of the hill in uniform rows. The nation certainly took his gardening seriously. Some would say too seriously, but it wasn't until Netherlands was halfway back to the church that he called the other nations out of their trance. They followed him back past the church to the town. He walked all the way home before flopping down on the couch and falling asleep. They shrugged and reconvened with the group reporting on what had happened. Belgium stormed off to her brother's house followed by Switzerland, while Canada and Lichtenstein asked for directions to this massive flower garden. The two Nordics sighed and rented a hotel room for the night exhausted from the odd search collapsing in much the same manner the lost nation had.

* * *

**A/N:** I swear the plot will get better within the next couple of chapters! As to the ten thousand tulips bit… When Netherlands was liberated from Germany's control during WWII by Canadian forces, he expressed his gratitude by sending Canada a hundred thousand tulips, and ten thousand tulips every year afterwards. I may write an interquel Canada x Lichtenstein one shot with the event in more detail.


	3. I Don't Believe in a Thing Called Love

**A/N:** A lot of stuff's happened, we know the cast of the Hetalia dub, and I have a roommate for college, I am also a proud member of the LiveJournal Hetalia fans now. Sorry to anyone who wanted the pictures, I put them up for the requested time and now they are down.

I don't own Hetalia; though I have the DVD reserved. And as always I apologize for my butchering of foreign languages… I hope to learn more… someday…

* * *

A few days after discovering Netherlands gardening, Norway and Denmark took the long flight from Copenhagen to Johannesburg. The flight had been uneventful, save for a few odd incidents of Finland running back and forth through the aisles trying to find where his dog Hanatamago had escaped. Norway spent most of the flight asleep against Denmark's arm with Denmark's head resting atop of the smaller Nordic's head. They landed and collected their bags from the overhead bin. Since this tournament was much longer than the Winter Olympics they'd brought more clothing, not to mention Denmark would be participating too he had to pack seven jerseys for his trip. That way he could trade with the other teams after the matches.

On the concourse the pair found Argentina arriving looking half asleep as always. Though a few gates down Brazil had emerged, and the Nordics watch the nation spring awake and start spouting insults at the nation in gold and green radiating sunshine and goodwill just like the uniforms the team wore.

The two Nordics backed away slowly, and headed out to the luggage carousel to get their bags. A teenager with spiked hair and an Italian uniform flew over one of the baggage claims kicking a ball towards another teen with uneven white hair. The white haired youth struck it away down the large room. Several more teens gave chase but one paused and ran over to the two Nordics. "Mr. Norway! Mr. Denmark! Remember me?"

"Oh yeah, you're..." Denmark paused frowning. "That kid from the Olympics! TiVo!"

Norway cuffed his boyfriend in the head, "it's Tenoh. Sorry, how have you been?"

She grinned, "fantastic! You?"

"Well enough," he replied. Suddenly the soccer ball struck Tenoh in the head dropping her to the ground. She rolled and shook her head.

"Bend it like Beckham you stupid dog!" The white haired teen called out.

Tenoh stood up, "pardon me. We've been playing like our favorite stars of World Cups past." She bowed and charged the teen crying, "ZIDANE HEADBUTT!"

Norway frowned and shook his head, "ah to be so young and carefree again."

Denmark shook his head, "you sound like an old man, let's go get checked into the hotel. You can play with the kids later." He bustled the other nation out of the airport to the hotel.

Outside of the hotel that the two Nordics would be staying at, Netherlands sat on the bench watching the happy couple passing by. Out on the hillside overlooking a small pond, he noted a trend of hotels with ponds for major events; he spotted Greece and Japan casually chatting about cats. He leaned back and threaded his hands behind his head. Denmark, Norway, Greece, Japan, even his sister and Switzerland, it seemed like everyone was falling in love. Normally this didn't bother him too much; after all he was the prime example of not caring except for the flowers.

He stood up and took off into the town wandering around. He watched kids running around and playing soccer in the streets. One of the kids kicked the ball over towards him on accident. Netherlands trapped the ball with his foot and flicked it back. The kids waved him over, "want to play with us?"

"Sure," Netherlands smiled, though he'd never admit it. He took a side and batted it around with them for a while. Despite his serious expression, he was seriously enjoying himself. He passed the ball around until the sun had started to dip into the sky. He told the children to run home to their parents, and then he returned to his hotel. Once inside he found a group of teens, one of which seemed to be inebriated to some degree singing. Most of them sounded like they spoke Italian, but a couple, to his surprise spoke Dutch.

"Take me out to the World Cup! Take me out to the crowd! Buy me some pasta and German beer! I don't care if I ever come back! Cause it's root, root, root for the home team! If they don't win Brazil will! Cause its one, two, three points to nil at the old ball game!" They sang, at least before the oldest of the group passed out.

Netherlands shook his head, a frowned crossed his face. "Damn now it's stuck in my head," he watched them settle into another round before watching two of the teens exchange a brief kiss.

He stalked away, why didn't he have anybody to have by his side? And why was it everyone seemed to think his primary service in their lives was matchmaker? He unlocked the door to his hotel room and stepped out to the balcony under the moonlight. The tall nation rubbed his scarred forehead annoyed as he gazed out over the nighttime parade of people. Who was it that talked some sense into Norway and Denmark? Who'd been Japan's friend during his hikikomori phase before America and Greece came along? Who had encouraged Prussia and Germany to stop being so serious about hiding their feelings from their respective love interests? And who had graciously allowed the use of his house to Spain and Romano as the backdrop for their first date?

Something brushed the tips of his spiked hair. Netherlands looked up to see France hanging over his head suspended from the balcony above him by a foot. "Ah bonne nuit ma tulipe! I seem to be, well, stuck. Could you help?"

Netherlands helped France unhook his foot and hoisted him safely onto the balcony next to him. "There. Goodbye." The sullen nation faced back out to the stadium in the distance.

France, despite his general nature, could tell something of a relationship nature was bothering the nation next to him. "Ma tulipe, what's the problem? You look positively lonely."

"It's nothing, go run up the wall to England or something," Netherlands walked back into his room and locked the sliding glass door behind him. His mood lightened slightly as he finally realized why hotels had locks on the sliding doors above the second floor. But it only cheered him up long enough to shut the curtains and strip down to his underwear before he went to bed.

Back on the balcony rail, France scribbled a note on a scrap of napkin in his pocket leaving it by the balcony door. Then he carefully walked over to the left edge of the open circular balcony. He took a mighty leap before clinging to the bottom rail of the balcony diagonally above. Pulling himself up, he pushed off spinning in midair before rolling neatly across his balcony.

"Oy France, where've you been?" England asked as he stuck his head through the glass door.

France dusted himself off and smiled over to the bushy browed nation, "just out on a little stroll. We have a new project, ma rose."

England frowned and crossed his arms across his bare chest as he stepped into the chilly Johannesburg air. "This another one of your stupid games?"

"Remember the man who helped us out in our time of need? Pays-Bas, Netherlands. He requires our help." France offered cradling England's chin.

England gave the other nation a frown, "count me out jackass..."

France shut the door and locked it behind him, "please?"

"Fine..." England sighed, "What's your half-baked plan?"

"I'll tell you when I think of one, oui?" and with that France pushed England back onto the bed.

* * *

**A/N:** And our main protagonist has sauntered his way into the main story line. I actually came up with the song one day helping my mom with the laundry. For anyone curious it is sung to the tune of 'Take Me Out To The Ball Game' but in a slightly inebriated fashion. After all this is a football song.


	4. Not a Prisoner of Love

**A/N:** Arg… I feel bad; I'm working on two other stories rather than this. I will probably post up one when I get the chance. It's a Gakuen Hetalia one starring Russia… I blame xLadyxLibertyx for the brilliant idea of Russia as Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz._ Thanks bossman for that idea... Kolkolkolkolkol...

I don't own Hetalia; if I did then poor Japan wouldn't be hurt… Sorry Japan… Please don't kill me.

* * *

The next morning Netherlands woke up at his normal five o'clock for an early workout. He opened the shades and the door to get a breath of fresh air before he noticed a note hitting him in the face courtesy of the wind. He pulled it off of his face and frowned at the flowery writing scrawled across the top. A breakfast invitation from France and England? He half considered tossing it over the edge of the railing never to be seen again. But he hated littering, so he threw it in the recycling bin next to the desk in the room. He pulled on one of his training jerseys and some shorts along with his beat up sneakers.

He headed down in the elevator the hotel gym, where he found Japan trying to bench press way too much for his own safety. Japan's arms folded, but Netherlands caught the bar before it could crush his friend. Together they put the barbell back on the rack. The larger nation stood up and filled a cup of water before passing it to his friend.

"You okay?" Netherlands put a hand on Japan's back. "Why wasn't Greece with you?"

"He likes to sleep late," Japan noted panting out of breath. "Thank you." He bowed his head gratefully before taking a drink.

"No problem," Netherlands stood up sure that Japan would be okay while he did some light jogging on the treadmill to get warmed up for his work out. Netherlands stopped his run after a few minutes before heading over to some of the weights. Picking up a pair of twenty-pound hand weights he did some curls, keeping an eye on Japan pedaling on the cycle. He startled slightly as the door opened to reveal Germany standing in a tank top and shorts with a towel around his neck. Netherlands eyes narrowed, he and Germany weren't on horrible terms having reconciled their differences, mostly. The only time of their lives they didn't get along was at the World Cup.

Germany frowned, "I don't recall having to work out in the same training room as you."

"And I don't recall having to see your ugly mug when I train to beat it into the pitch." Netherlands retorted. Their rivalry started back in the 1940s but had only escalated in the Seventies, when his first World Cup final had been lost to the blond nation.

"If you don't like it then you can leave," Germany glared.

"Maybe I will helmet head." Netherlands stood up eye to eye with Germany.

"Fine by me flower power!" Germany growled angrily.

Japan stepped between the two, "please stop fighting! There's plenty of room for all three of us in the facility!"

Netherlands and Germany glanced down, "why would I want to share it with a guy like him?"

Japan turned a little pale. "Maybe you could try pretending the other isn't here?"

Germany nodded, "easy enough."

"Fine by me," Netherlands growled.

Netherlands went back to his bench continuing on with the free weights, determined to follow Japan's advice. Things went pretty well, he didn't often go out to the gym, preferring free weights in his own home. That was until Japan was struggling with one of barbell weights to make it lighter for his next try. Netherlands put one hand on it to help, but Germany had also abandoned his place to assist. Japan let go as both took it.

"Excuse me, I'll put this away for him." Netherlands snapped.

"No, I'll get it," Germany grunted.

The scarred nation dropped the weight and took the blond by the collar, "I said I was getting it."

Germany also dropped the weight ready to defend himself. "No I said I would."

Both of them failed to remember Japan had let go also, and the weight fell onto his foot with a sickening crunch. His eyes watered and he let out a yelp. The two arguing nations stared at the third, and then flew into a panic.

"Go get some help! I'll take him back to his room!" Germany shouted.

"Hang on Japan!" Netherlands yelled and bolted through the door. He ran down the hall and promptly felt something hit him in the chest followed by two more loud crashes. The nation looked down to see Iceland supporting a dazed Norway.

"Watch where you're going Netherlands!" Iceland shouted.

"Sorry, it's just Germany..." he paused wanting to be the better man, "and I accidentally dropped a weight on Japan's foot and I'm on my way to get help! Because if I can't play him in a week then it'll be my fault..."

Norway, who'd recovered by now, blinked up at the other nation, "injured and you need a fast fix? I may know someone who can help, follow me. Ice, you go on ahead okay?" Iceland nodded and departed for his morning run.

Netherlands followed the Nordic up a few floors at a run, down a corridor to a hotel room. "Here we are," he smiled and knocked.

A few minutes later a girl appeared at the door with a toothbrush in her mouth and a frown on her face. She snatched a cup then spit out the excess foam into it, "Mr. Norway and Mr..." she paused and studied Netherlands, "Netherlands, or do you prefer Holland?"

"Holland is my pecs if you don't mind," he grumbled, people never realized that Holland was just two provinces in the country, at least she had the courtesy to ask.

"Tenoh we need your brother's help. He wouldn't happen to be about would he?" Norway asked. "Japan broke his foot and we need your brother's medical expertise."

She nodded, "he ain't a morning person, but I'll see what I can do."

They waited while she walked away then disappeared into the darkness. Netherlands frowned, one of Norway and England's odd friends, typical. Tenoh reappeared a moment later with her brother slung over her shoulder. "Aight, where's Japan at?"

"Germany's room, two floors down and across the hall from this place." Norway replied.

She nodded, "we'll go on ahead." And with that she shut the door.

Netherlands was about to protest the fact, then realized that Norway naturally attracted weird people, like Denmark and the rest of the Loser Trio. Instead he pondered while they entered into the elevator. "How do you know where Germany's staying?"

"Unlike you I get along with him," Norway replied. "Try not to worry about Japan. I'll let you know how he's doing. See you later." He got off and bade the other nation farewell.

Netherlands frowned and took the elevator up to his room unable to stop worrying about Japan. After cleaning up and changing, he walked to the room phone and asked the receptionist for Greece's room. He left a brief message explaining Japan's whereabouts before hanging up. With that guilt out of his system he departed his room to wait for breakfast with France in twenty minutes. He arrived in the lobby, settling on one of the couches with the new issue of International Horticulture Monthly. He'd just started reading a special feature on some sustainable tea fields across the world when he heard France's not so subtle tones.

"Bonjour ma tulipe! Are you ready for breakfast?" France called with England on his arm looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Do you always have to yell in public?" England snapped loudly.

"The pot that called the kettle black ne? Anyway, shall we go eat?" France offered leading the way into the hotel restaurant. Netherlands sat down and ordered a glass of water, proceeding to try and pretend he wasn't at breakfast with these two. At least until France started up a conversation with him. "You're lonely."

"I am not," Netherlands grumbled.

"It wasn't a question, ma tulipe, I have known you a very long time, ever since we were little nations. You were always the shoulder everyone could cry on. Yet you never had anyone to care for." France noted.

England observed in silence, debating whether to stand up for his sometimes ally and friend. Now that France brought it up, the bushy browed nation did notice that Netherlands had always been alone, his sister had never wanted anything to do with him, and Luxembourg was busy trying to get by on his own along with being the responsible brother. Then again the person taking Netherlands under his wing was the single biggest flirt known to the world. He sipped his tea, "so what's wrong with that?"

"I'm shocked at you England! Isn't it obvious how this poor man is suffering?" France put a hand on his chest, hoisting his cup of coffee into the air. "Without our guidance, he will be forever suffering!"

Netherlands leaned his head on his hand. He was desperately wishing he would be anywhere but out at breakfast with a pair of crazy people. Well a crazy man and the only person who could put up with him for longer than five minutes. He sighed, "What was it you wanted to point out besides useless drivel?"

"You should try dating! See how things go for you, I've compiled a list of all of the available singles who don't hate you or your sister!" France flourished a very blank piece of paper. He set in front of the other nation and let him look it over.

The florist nation frowned and studied the list, "Belarus, Russia, and Estonia."

France shrugged, "the rest of the world is either paired off, or wants nothing to do with you." He sipped his coffee. "England still hasn't lost his touch as a spy."

England frowned, "you know it's rude to talk about people in the third person when they're sitting right next to you!" He snatched away France's coffee angrily.

Netherlands sighed as his breakfast of sugary cereal arrived. He snatched up a spoonful, using it as an excuse to observe the arguing couple before him, wondering how the two could have possibly fallen in love. Then again the minute someone else threatened one of the nations, the other immediately jumped to his aid. The florist nation smirked studying the list, so these were the only available matches. Belarus, Estonia and Russia. Talk about blind dating, Estonia barely had time to say hello to anyone since he had to watch out for the other Baltics so Russia didn't bully them too much. He frowned, that just left the two most unstable nations for dating purposes. Why couldn't someone sane like Canada or Lichtenstein be left? Oh that's right, because wintertime was the perfect time for romance, just like getting the flu or some other horrible disease.

He finished his cereal and stood up to leave. Netherlands slipped past the arguing nations, and wandered off to the outside. He found a nice patch of grass to sit down in then lit up a cigarette watching the sky. Tonight would be the big party for the tournament with music from all over the world along with dancing and tributes. He loved a good concert, so all he had to do was figure out what to do with his time between now and then. Lying back on the grass he took the cigarette out of his mouth gazing at the clouds. The florist nation loved observing the sky, it calmed him down and brought him back to the days when his sister liked him and all he wanted to do in life was grow flowers.

Snuffing what was left of his cigarette he sat up and looked at the person who'd appeared a few feet away on the bank of the little pond. Her purple dress was rumpled and messy while her long blond hair hung around her face. Netherlands instinctively retreated slightly recognizing the figure as that of Belarus. But something was wrong with the normally serious, as in seriously obsessed, nation. Her shoulders kept heaving in an uneven rhythm. Despite his instincts and the fact France had said she was one of the only people available to him, he crawled forward towards her.

"Hey Belarus, what's wrong?" He asked cautiously.

"Stupid Brother, stupid Estonia, stupid world, I will kill Estonia. Then Russia will be mine, mine, mine!" She chanted shaking as more tears leaked from her eyes. It looked like she'd been wandering around crying for a while, even though she'd only wound up here a little while ago. "Why stupid Estonia? Why not me? Why?"

Netherlands realized he felt very awkward sitting next to Belarus silently listening to her. Slowly he pulled off his long coat and shivered as the chilly winter air hit him. Gingerly placing it on her narrow shoulders he waited for a few minutes seeing what she'd do. When she continued crying he put an arm around her shoulders. It wasn't like he didn't think Belarus was good looking, in fact if she wasn't so creepily obsessed with her brother she would be his type. His thumb flicked over her shoulder soothingly while she shuddered painfully.

"Why can't he just like me? Why can't we just go back to being together?" Belarus muttered weakly leaning up against Netherlands with her face in his shirt. He sighed, here he was, once again the world's shoulder to cry on. So what if it made him miserable no one loved him? He felt Belarus' breathing even out slowly, though he could still hear her crying. He stayed with her letting the other nation calm down until he saw she'd cried herself to sleep.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" The florist nation muttered. Belarus cuddled closer to him, and he felt something fall onto his knee. A room key. He picked it up along with Belarus carrying them back to the hotel. He paused at the front desk to ask which room she was in before taking her there. Sliding the card in the door he carefully opened up the room and lay her down on the bed. Setting the keycard on the dresser he walked away back outside closing the door behind him.

* * *

**A/N:** So basically this will end up being Netherlands/Belarus fic. Honestly I'm more worried about how Russia and Estonia hooked up. But at any rate now that I've had a nice break I will get back to working on this.


	5. A Little Less Angst, A Little More Love

**A/N:** Somebody please punch me… I've been working on another story and the results of the card contest won't be announced until the 20th! I'm so freaked out right now. So for your patience, here's the next chapter.

I don't own Hetalia; if I did then History of Pasta would be a required college course.

Later that night Netherlands stood in line outside of Soccer City Stadium with a ticket to the party. He flashed it and after passing through security made his way to the front of the venue. He stood next to a group of kids chatting animatedly with one another; the same group from the hotel singing that stupid song that sounded suspiciously like America had come up with it. He leaned up against the stage railing and proceeded to enjoy the concert quite thoroughly. South Africa had pulled out the stops for the event; musical artists from all over the world, the drums and vocals were brilliant.

He still leaned against the railing enjoying the rest of the concert, though during a section featuring equality for all, the group next to him kept cheering how they were in it. Stupid bunch of kids he was stuck next to, but Netherlands wouldn't let that ruin his night. When the concert wrapped up he started back to the hotel shivering at the cold, he wondered what he did with his jacket. Oh that was right, he took his coat off and gave it to Belarus. Heading back up the elevator to his room he headed to the balcony for room service and a peaceful night.

The food arrived and the florist nation tucked in to a gourmet meal. But about twenty minutes in he heard acoustic guitar chords coming from somewhere. Slightly annoyed he stepped out to the patio straining to find the source. On the next balcony stood Spain strumming a guitar wearing all black hanging his head. Just what Netherlands needed, another romantic problem to solve for someone else. He almost smashed his head against the wall in frustration.

"Oy Spain, are you gonna make it easy for me to win this whole damn tournament?" Netherlands called across the gap. He didn't like the other nation but he couldn't get any sleep with his neighbor strumming that damn guitar all night.

"Oh, hey Netherlands... maybe... I don't know... Romano said he needed some time to think before we could go with the commitment." Spain sighed depressed. "When I asked if he wanted to talk about it he cursed me out and packed up his stuff to stay with his brother and Germany."

Netherlands nodded wisely; nations only got married when their bosses wanted to merge the country. However some generally went through a commitment ceremony of some sort, the only couples that had gone through it though were Finland and Sweden along with Germany and Italy. He knew Spain and Romano had been together for a while, but the Italian seemed reluctant to go along with the next step. But he must have been royally pissed off to want to spend the tournament with Germany over Spain. "Is that why you look like you're going to a funeral?"

"Si, more or less, but leave me be Netherlands. I must let my heart bleed through my guitar," Spain hung his head.

Netherlands wondered about the normally cheerful nation, mournfully strumming the instrument in his hands. "Drama queen," he muttered heading back into his room. The florist cleaned up his dinner setting the dishes outside of the front door. He shut the door and stripped down for the night. He lay on the bed for a while, drifting off slowly to sleep.

The European nation woke up at about four in the morning when someone knocked on his door. Half asleep he forced himself out of bed. Netherlands blinked as he peered through the eyehole to see Belarus holding his coat glaring at the door. He hastily opened it up, "'ello?"

"Here's your ridiculous coat. Don't think you're ever getting between my Russia and me." She thrust the jacket into his hands, her mouth formed a deep frown but her cheeks were lightly tinted red and she had turned her head away from him. "You won't stop me." She stormed away angrily leaving the sleepy nation to go back to bed for another few hours. He threw his coat onto the chair then flopped back down on the bed. His eyes closed before snapping open. He realized he'd been wearing almost nothing; even then it was just a pair of floral print underwear. Even if he didn't like her, that explained her behavior towards him.

"Dammit," well that would keep him awake. Netherlands stood up and pulled on a clean pair of underwear, some shorts, a shirt and his shower sandals. He stepped out of his room and sighed, four thirty in the morning, the game wouldn't be for another few hours. Sighing he returned to his room, only to realize he'd left his key in the room.

Too exhausted to go back inside Netherlands lay down in the hall and went back to sleep. He woke up in mid-afternoon when the noise factor had increased. Most of the nations had gone about on their business, some wearing the colors of South Africa, others of Mexico. The florist nation sat up to see someone standing over him, the man was in his late teens with a huge grin on his face distorting the scar on his chin and cheek wearing a Mexican uniform. One hand had a sharpie, while the other held a brilliant orange jersey.

"No autographs..." The European nation muttered scratching his head.

"But this was the jersey you wore playing along side the great Johan Cryuff! The Clockwork Oranje of 1974 was pure poetry! You're the one who gave this to me! I also remember what you said, 'here you go, now will you leave me alone!'" The teen smiled hopefully.

Netherlands felt distinctly freaked out and annoyed by the situation. He took the pen and signed the jersey, this kid wasn't a nation, he knew that much. Still there was no way he could have been at the 1974 World Cup; he didn't even look like he was twenty! "How old are you kid?"

"I'll be a hundred in a few weeks! I'm proud to say I've been at every World Cup game ever played! If you're curious how I got to the final group matches, I leave for the other game at half time." He stood up and offered out his hand, "Nero Scaevola. I'll see you later Mr. Netherlands!"

Netherlands shook hands with the young man before he ran off. Well that was weird, still weird things happened in the world all the time, in fact this was normal compared to Belarus behavior. He stood up and shook his spiked hair back into its normal upright position. The florist nation wandered out of the hotel grumbling, he'd forgotten his wallet and his cigarettes along with his room key. Hungry, cold and annoyed Netherlands sat on the bank of the pond closing his eyes. They probably wouldn't even let him into the game without his ticket. He couldn't even prove his identity, stupid kids and their 'cosplay' probably dozens lining up at the gate dressed like him. He did want to attend the opening match. That way he could see Belarus again. His eyes snapped open and his face turned scarlet.

The florist nation had meant Belgium, not Belarus! He wanted to say hi to his sister, not the crazy nation. "Dammit", he had to find food and get his mind off of the situation. He frowned into the pond seeing carp in it, "now how to catch one..." Netherlands muttered while he picked up a sharp stick.

"Ma tulipe! Care to join us for lunch?" France called from the sidewalk. England was looking the other way chatting to the air, typical behavior for the crazy one. Probably one of his imaginary friends.

Netherlands opened his mouth to protest but then he winced as his stomach growled angrily. France would pay for him, and France knew where to find lots of good food. For the man who was the origin of the phrase 'To go Dutch' he certainly knew how to mooch off of people. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Belgium's place you moron!" England shouted, more annoyed than normal.

Netherlands nodded and walked away from the bank of the pond tossing aside his cheap spear. He shivered following the other nations to Belgium's bar by the circle of flags near Soccer City. They chose a table in the middle of the nations-only restaurant. Switzerland walked out from the kitchen wearing an apron.

"What do you want?" He asked gruffly glaring at all of them.

"Terriene and a glass of wine," France grinned charmingly at the waiter.

"House special and a gin and tonic," England ordered punching France in the arm roughly.

"Hutspot and advocaat." Netherlands tried to stifle his stomach growling for posterity.

The neutral nation took the notes then stalked back into the kitchen to assist Belgium with cooking. France got his catlike look that spelled trouble for everyone, "so England has something to share? Ma rose?"

"Caught you out with Belarus the other day," he set some pictures on the table. "Care to share?"

Netherlands frowned, his face lightly tinted red. "No comment."

"So you do like her," France now bore a strong resemblance to the Cheshire Cat. "Pay up ma rose, seems I am right."

England grumbled and pulled out his moneybag and set ten Euros on the table. France eagerly scooped it into his pocket. Netherlands would have stood up and stormed off save for two things. One was his stomach demanding food, the other was the girl stumbling inside and hiding in the corner. Netherlands glanced out the window, outside he saw Russia and Estonia walking down the flag lined lane to the stadium, presumably to get good seats. That would explain why Belarus was huddled in the corner chanting in a slightly manic whisper.

"Go on," France gave Netherlands gentle kick to the shin.

Netherlands half considered decking him, but if he wanted food he'd have to wait until after he'd eaten. Summoning his nerve, the florist nation stood then walked over to the other nation and sat down across from her. "Natalia? Are you okay?"

She didn't reply, she just sat there with tears in her eyes while she polished a knife with her dress sleeve. Gently Netherlands reached over and took the knife from the other nation, careful not to cut himself on the weapon. Slowly he repeated the question, "Natalia, are you okay?"

Glaring up at him Belarus bit her lip, "persistent... just like you... what do you want?"

"To talk," Netherlands noted, his normal caustic approach wouldn't work. Unlike his normal annoyances, the two parties involved didn't have mutual feelings. So his normal tactic of talking sense into one of them wouldn't work this time. "I just want to know what's wrong."

She glanced at her knife in his hand, "my Ivan... my brother... and that... that man..." The pale blond nation snarled. "Why not me?"

To be honest, even Netherlands was confused why Russia was with Estonia, then again Russia did bully him the least out of any other nation save for his sisters. "I honestly don't know. Have you tried talking to him?"

"No..." She sniffed trying not to start crying again.

Switzerland brought his lunch out and set the plate on the table. The neutral nation walked away muttering something about how insane Netherlands had become. The florist nation was about to start eating before sliding his plate to the middle of the table with a dull scraping noise. "Eat, you look like you could use it."

Belarus glared at him but still took her fork to half his food. The two nations ate in silence both trying to ignore the very intent stares of England and France on them. When they finished, Belarus sighed, narrowed her eyes, then slinked away.

Netherlands watched her go then looked at the dagger sitting next to him. Now he'd be lucky if they let him in the hotel much less the game. He stood up, determined to leave the dagger behind, with any luck she'd go back for it. At least until he found himself looking down the wrong end of Switzerland's favorite pistol. "I don't care if you make Francis pay, but you are taking the dagger with you. Fail to do so and I will terminate you."

Now even his sister's boyfriend was in on the conspiracy. Sighing Netherlands picked up the dagger and walked out of the restaurant. Belarus stood outside her head held low, face masked by her hair. "Hey Belarus, you forgot your knife."

She blinked up and him while he passed her the dagger, "...thank you..."

"It's a good knife, I'm really impressed. The craftsmanship is quite something." Netherlands mentally gave himself a swift double kick to the crotch and the head. Here he was making small talk with a nation he barely knew.

"I still don't like you. But since my Russia went to the game with... him... take this..." She handed him a ticket to today's game.

"Thanks," he smiled and watched her storm away. He walked to the stadium and went through the entrance. A few minutes later he found his seat, it was better than his original, midfield front row. Brilliant seating, save for the fact he was sitting next to the annoying teens from the other day. Once again all of them were singing, "Take Me Out To The World Cup" at the top of their lungs. How he ended up sitting next to these idiots again and again made no sense to him. If this were a story this would be the point at which he would punch the author in the face, but unfortunately he didn't know how to fight fate with tactic.

The game opened up with Mexico in early possession, but South Africa's defense held staunch throughout the first half. He watched the team in yellow barely miss scoring off of a corner kick, cheering at the keeper's job. He may have been striker for his team, but he did give credit to keepers where it was due, since no one ever remembered the keeper save for Spain and Paraguay, who both played keeper for their team. Mexico took the ball at the midfield line and powered down the line to take a shot, but South Africa once again held him off, the tall nation had charged from the midfield to make a key slide tackle. Halftime came and Netherlands leaned back enjoying the lull in the vuvuzelas, until one of the teens leaned over.

"Hey Mr. Netherlands I want to introduce you to my friends!" Netherlands instinctively cringed as the fan from earlier waved. He reluctantly glanced over, "these two are the twins Darnell and Tenoh, along with their sister, Darnell's husband, and Tenoh's fiancé." Nero put a hand on the white haired youth sitting next to him, "this is Harun, he... er she... er being of indeterminate gender... Harun's my bride to be!"

The white haired teen's face expressed what Netherlands felt, 'get me away from this crazed fan boy before I lobotomize myself.'

"Charmed." Netherlands muttered before standing up and moving to a different section of the stands. In the front row and he found an open seat stealing it before anyone else noticed. "Damn," was this what he would have to put up with for the rest of the tournament?

Still the game was really enjoyable. He knew that South Africa scoring the first goal of the tournament would be fantastic. He even thought the celebration dance was rather cool, though Mexico didn't seem to agree that well to being down a goal. In fact the other nation blasted through the South African defensive line in the waning minutes of the game. The game ended on a one to one tie, perhaps appropriate for the situation at hand.

Netherlands sighed and hiked the stairs to the exit through the crowd. Upon wandering to the practice field he sighed as he and the rest of his team ran a few warm up laps before running some drills. He walked over to his keeper with a bag full of soccer balls and he warmed up his kicks along side warming up the keeper. An hour into practice, Netherlands had rallied the team into a half field scrimmage with the offensive side playing the defense. One of his teammates had the ball and he went for the slide tackle when something fell out of his pocket during the motion. He passed the ball off before picking up the item. The florist nation felt his cheeks go red; it was the ticket Belarus had given him for the opening match. The ticket had little hearts drawn in red, white and blue. The ticket had been meant for Russia but lots of nations had those as their colors, including Netherlands.

One of his teammates walked over to the distracted nation, "hey Netherlands, what's that? A love letter from a secret admirer?"

Netherlands went red with embarrassment and fury, "shut up and let's get back to practicing." He stole the ball away from his teammate powering down the field. So what if he liked Belarus? That shouldn't be interfering in his concentration. He passed the ball off, and then bicycle kicked the return pass into the goal.

He walked back to the hotel a few hours later, wishing he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He sighed as he returned to the lobby, finding Norway sitting with a magazine in the lobby with Denmark asleep on his lap. "Hey, how's Japan doing?" He asked the shorter nation.

Norway glanced up, "he'll be okay. Fortunately the break was only in the larger metatarsals so he'll be up and about by tomorrow. His foot is back to normal but we just have to wait for the swelling to go down." The Nordic held up a keycard, "I had one of my friends retrieve this for you."

"Thanks," Netherlands nodded. He took the keycard and returned to his room eager to sleep on a bed for a change.

**A/N:** Another chapter down, and hey check it out Friday the 13th! So beware of black cats, ladders, and mirrors. See you next chapter!


	6. I Fell in Love with a Girl on the Pitch

**A/N:** Peace avid readers and a happy birthday to Belarus! Normally I'd write a fic and post it today, but consider this an IOU for later this week. It's been really busy getting moved into college and I've been totally down… Still my writing's been keeping me sane so without delay here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia; if I did then all male nations would be required to wear TINY MINISKIRTS!

* * *

When he woke up a few days later, Netherlands showered and changed heading out to the roar of the crowd in Soccer City, at least he would if he didn't want breakfast first. He paused at the hotel restaurant and ate in peace reading the paper. Apparently several people had dressed up as Minutemen and Redcoats at USA vs. England two days prior, and sadly he recognized one of them as the weirdo stalker he had gained. He checked the scores but almost ripped the paper in half when he saw Germany giving a statement to the paper about his match against Australia. "Smug bastard," Netherlands snarled and set the paper down.

The florist nation sighed and left the hotel in a foul mood, still he entered the locker room and met with his team. He changed and went out onto the field to warm up along side Denmark on the other half of the field. Netherlands waved to Denmark, who was over with Norway by the stands. They waved back, leaving the orange clad nation to warm up under the watchful eyes of Canada and Lichtenstein. He left his team to practice while he went to check on something.

"Oy Canada," Netherlands called to the referee nation. "Did you get the flowers?"

Lichtenstein's eyes widened, "Canada... is there something you're not telling me?"

Canada blinked rapidly, "no, not like that! He," the nation indicated Netherlands, "always sends me flowers every year for saving him from Germany a while back." He faced back to Lichtenstein, "you're the only one for me I promise."

Lichtenstein blushed slightly and hugged him; Netherlands bowed himself out of the conversation at this point. Half an hour later he walked into the tunnel along side of Denmark. The spiky blond nation grinned over at his opponent, "Yo Blossom, you ready for this?"

Netherlands shrugged, "if I have to be."

Denmark punched his fists together, "you better be! I'm winnin' this match for Norway and I am kickin' your ass in the process!"

"Good luck with that," Netherlands rebuffed his fellow nation.

They marched into the stadium and stood next to Canada and Lichtenstein in a long line. Denmark's national anthem filled the stadium a minute later, followed by Netherlands. The florist nation sang along proudly through the moving orchestral piece. After the anthems the nations all gathered around and shook hands. Denmark handed over a banner and a special captain's band while Netherlands gave him a banner and a flower in return. Canada held up a coin for both of them to see.

"Netherlands as the guest for the game you get to call," Canada announced ready to flip. "Heads or tails?"

"Tails," he followed the old mantra of 'tails never fails'.

Canada flicked the coin into the air and caught on the back of his free hand. He removed his other hand from the coin holding it up to both nations, it landed on heads. "Denmark would you like to kick or receive first."

"Kick, duh," Denmark grinned eagerly.

They shook hands again then with Canada and Lichtenstein before taking sides. Netherlands huddled with his team briefly to let them know the situation, and then they spread out in their familiar four-four-two formation, or four defenders, four midfielders, and two forwards. Denmark put his foot on the ball and smirked before flicking it off to his teammate on the right.

Netherlands charged forward and set the game in motion. He'd easily taken possession back within the ten-minute mark. His teammate flicked it off to him, Netherlands leaped to take a header but Denmark's keeper punched the ball away and over the back line leaving Netherlands to kick the ball in from the corner. He let his teammate take the kick, once again the florist nation leaped for the header but found himself challenged by Denmark. The blond nation jumped into the air and grunted when he felt the ball bounce of his back, going in, what to him, was the wrong direction. He collided midair with Netherlands, the two nations landed together in a compromising tangled heap.

Up in the stands Norway hung his head covering his face with his hands to hide the awkward blush plastering his face. Lichtenstein noticed this and frowned, to her it looked like Norway was crying, and she could see why, Canada had the whistle in his mouth calling a goal. Sure enough the ball had bounced off of Denmark into the back of the net. Her face turned determined watching the two nations untangling themselves from one another.

Netherlands spit a tuft of turf and hair out of his mouth. He helped Denmark up; the nation was as red as his away uniform. "You know if we ever hooked up you'd be in the same position."

"Oh I am so on top," Denmark grumbled then realized that the conversation was awkward and vaguely betraying to his relationship with Norway. The blond nation then prayed he never had to marry the nation running down the field. He'd much rather remarry Norway anyway.

Netherlands skidded to a halt while Denmark's keeper kicked the ball back to the midway line. He touched it away from the blond nation and charged back down the field when the half time whistle blew. The florist nation traipsed back to the locker room for something to drink and some strategizing, yes he was up one to nil, but he also had scored courtesy of Denmark. That meant the Nordic would come back, and Netherlands would be lucky if the other nation didn't return to the pitch with a battle-axe.

The florist nation finished re-hydrating himself and returned to the pitch, greeting the referees for the start of the second half. Fortunately Denmark hadn't returned with his battle-axe, though he was sporting his slasher smile that often accompanied said axe. Netherlands put his foot on the ball and glanced around the pitch he kicked the ball down the field to his left. He received a pass when he cut between the defenses. He blinked as he saw who was in the front row seat behind what in the previous half had been his goal. Belarus sat there and glared at him, sending the message of, "I am not happy to be here but since I am... Don't screw this up."

Netherlands snapped back into focus long enough to see an incoming ball towards him after his midfielders had batted around figuring out how to snake it in to the nation. The ball ricocheted off his head off of the keeper. The keeper clung to the ball while Netherlands glanced away to Belarus one last time before refocusing on the game. In the last few minutes of the game Netherlands again found himself on Denmark's end of the field powering towards the goal. He drew his left foot back and struck the ball as hard as he needed to float it into the top inside corner of the net.

He let out a brief yell of celebration before his teammates ran over and buried him in a dog pile. He reemerged a moment later desperately choking for air, having at least ten other people piled on top of him tended to deprive Netherlands of air. Denmark sighed and shrugged apologetically up at Norway, who was being comforted by several of his friends from the Winter Olympics. Netherlands wove through the field for the last few minutes of added injury time casually batting around with his teammates until Canada blew the whistle and signaled the end of the game.

Denmark caught Netherlands eye and stripped off his sweat soaked shirt revealing the form fitting tank top underneath. "Trade ya!"

Netherlands also ripped off his shirt, but unlike the Nordic, he didn't have an undershirt on. He passed over the orange jersey and took the white one, wrapping it around his neck. The two nations shook hands followed by a brief hug. Norway had joined Denmark, but before he could embrace the other nation, Lichtenstein had floored the tall Nordic with a swift shot to the solar plexus. The florist nation observing this instinctively backed away, Lichtenstein may not have looked it, but she'd been raised by the nation with the most recorded times of curb stomping other nations in history since the fall of the Roman Empire.

Canada cowered next to the half naked nation watching the situation unfold. "She's really tough..."

Netherlands ruffled the blond haired nation's mane, "you're no pushover either when properly motivated."

The invisible nation giggled nervously, "maybe... I have to go hand in my game assessment to the officials' board now. I'll see you around okay?"

The florist nation waved his friend off, watching him collect Lichtenstein before she could cause any more damage to Denmark. Norway helped the other Nordic off of the grass and they walked back into the locker room. Netherlands sighed and hid his face behind Denmark's jersey, not wanting to display his weakness to the rest of the world. He frowned, stupid romance ruining his life. Romance. Belarus. Netherlands hunkered down and slammed his scarred head into the ground. How the hell did those two words form a relationship in his mind? He stood up and wiped the grass from his forehead with the back of his hand.

The exhausted nation sighed while he waited for lunch to will its way into his mind. He stumbled back to his room, and collapsed onto his bed and waited for sleep or hunger to take him. As it turned out it was sleep first and he suffered what he considered a rather unpleasant dream concerning himself and Belarus. Netherlands woke up afterwards, his face red with embarrassment, not at all the image he wanted the world to see. He was Netherlands the strong, Netherlands the aloof, Netherlands the nation who should take a cold shower before someone decided to knock on the door. Sighing he pulled himself out of bed and into the bathroom. When he finished cleaning up he dressed in some jeans and a shirt, his stomach finally focused on demanding he eat.

Leaving his room with card and wallet in hand, Netherlands walked to his sister's bar and settled in at the stool along the long counter at the front. "Hey Belle," the florist nation greeted his younger sister with a smile. Well as close to a smile as he could manage this early.

Belgium glared daggers at her brother, "what do you want Braam?"

Netherlands worried for a moment, "I just want some dinner and maybe some of that advice you seem keen on dishing out to the distraught clientele of this counter. My usual please."

Belgium scowled at the other nation until she spotted his wallet in hand and brightened instantly at the prospect of money. "Hutspot and advocaat right? I'll have Vash bring it out in no time!" She pored her brother the drink and smiled, "now what's wrong with you? You big idiot."

"Idiot is right. You're dating a guy right? I mean what would it take for someone like you to notice me? Cause the girl I think I'm falling for is infatuated with someone who wants nothing to do with her and he's dating someone else and seems perfectly happy." He let his head fall against the bar feeling stupid and awkward, "I mean Natalia isn't as insane, and it seems like Ivan and Eduard hooking up has caused her a lot of pain. And I mean we seemed to be thrown together like some sort of stupid Deus ex Machina in a poorly written romance novel that got overlaid with my normal sports life." Netherlands finished, realizing he'd just stopped short of confessing how he felt for Belarus.

Belgium just about dropped the glass she'd been polishing, "you and... Natalia? You seriously are in love with Natalia?"

"Yes..." he finally confessed. It was his first time ever being legitimately in love, sure he'd had alliances that required a bit of his aid but for the most part it'd been all around. "Dammit all I am in love with Natalia Arlovskaya!"

His sister chuckled and ruffled his spiky hair, "good for you! Now maybe you'll finally stop being such a brainless jerk and straighten out your life!"

"It's not that simple, I think she may actually try and hurt someone. Namely Eduard," Netherlands muttered.

Belgium nodded, "I'll be sure to let the association know. I know the group was a bit stunned when word got out that Ivan and Eduard were dating, though we take care to support any pairings that may emerge. I'll get one of our best trackers in the Association to tail them and make sure nothing happens until you and Natalia work things out."

He nodded when Switzerland brought out his dinner. Netherlands ate in silence watching his sister on the phone. "Yeah, put our most recent ship under... hang on for a second Corporal." Her brother motioned not to initiate surveillance, "cancel that last order Corporal. But do keep an eye on them." She hung up then frowned at the other nation. "What was that about?"

"I don't want any interference from your crazed cult. I will handle this like a proper adult and make sure that no one gets hurt." Netherlands set the cash on the table when he finished his meal. He thanked his sister and walked away silently through the door. He returned to his hotel room and settled in for an early night. Netherlands wondered what he'd spend the week leading up to his match against Japan doing.

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**A/N:** Alright children the moral of today's chapter is to never upset Lichtenstein or she will beat you into next week. Also Netherlands has finally admitted he's totally crushing on Belarus. We'll see how this all starts to work out next episode. Oh and for all curious, I didn't win the card contest but my pictures were showcased in the photo collection. For anyone interested in seeing them, drop me a PM for the details!


	7. Blue Samurai Oath

**A/N:** Okay this chapter was long and a pain to write… And Turkey and Greece showed up demanding they get fifteen minutes of fame. Anyway… I've started taking French as a class so whenever France whips out gratuitous French it'll start to actually be fairly accurate. Just giving you a heads up on that.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. The songs featured in today's chapter are Makka na Chikai from Busou Renkin and My Hands by Leona Lewis. (Yes I have both Kimi ga Irukara and My Hands on my iPod and I think they are both decent songs.)

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Over the next few days he contemplated asking Belarus out on a date. Risky business considering the last man she'd dated, Lithuania, had the honor of having all of his fingers broken. He really didn't want that, but the week leading up to his second match had been one plagued of bad ideas and sarcasm while he tried to figure it out. Eventually he figured out that he could ask her after the game if she showed up, and even if she didn't, he knew her room number and he could go and ask her.

So the time came for his second match of the tournament against his old friend Japan. He popped onto the bus along side his team and any of the nations interested in coming with them. They'd be staying overnight in another hotel down in Durban for the game the next day. Netherlands settled into his seat putting on some music to offset the mood, mindlessly shuffling a playlist that Japan had sent him a few weeks ago.

"Wa-o-oh, Wa-o-oh, Da da da da ra da! Wa-o-oh, Wa-o-oh, Da da da da ra da!" The florist nation smiled as he heard his favorite anime opening blaring in his head.

"Moe iko! Tachidomaru hima nanka nai sa!"

_Let's Burn! There's no time for standing around!_

"Kangaeru yoyun nanka nai sa!"

_I don't have the luxury of thinking things through!_

"Aritake no omoi wo mune ni! Shakunetsu no tatakai no naka e!"

_I've got all of these feelings crammed in my chest and I'm going into that scorching battle!_

"Amarini ni mo ookina chikara no kabe sekai no yami!"

_It's such a huge wall of power, such a huge darkness in the world!_

"Zettai makeru mon ka genkai koete!"

_But I'll never get up! I'll surpass all my limits!_

"Ima wakaranai koto bakari dakedo shinjiru kono michi wo susumu dake sa!"

_Right now there might be a lot of things I don't understand but I'm just going to keep following this path that I believe in!_

"Donne teki demo mikata demo kamarawanai, kono te wo hanasu mon ka."

_Any kind of friend or enemy is fine with me; I'll never let go of this hand._

"Makka na chikai!"

_A blood-red pact!_

He reached the first chorus when he realized he'd grabbed someone's hand. The bus hadn't left the hotel yet, and he reluctantly looked up to see whom it was. Belarus sat there looking mildly alarmed with her free hand holding a knife to his neck. Netherlands hastily let go of her hand and swallowed weakly as he took the earphones gently off of his head.

"What are you doing?" Belarus asked lowering the knife and sliding it back into one of the sheaths in her sleeves.

"Sorry... I was a bit distracted..." Netherlands muttered apologetically. Now that he knew he was in love the first thing to do was get the nation sitting next to him to talk to him. "Belarus, can I ask why you're here?"

"Nations are allowed on team buses... everywhere else was full..." She muttered and glared away from him. "Does it bother you that I'm here?"

Netherlands hastily shook his head, "no it's fine. Great really, I mean it's nice to see you again." He let out a slight cough, damn his faltering composure. "So how are you today?"

"Fine," she replied curtly. Pausing she glanced up at him, "and yourself?"

"Um, great, fantastic really. I mean Japan's foot is better and all... Greece still has a warrant for my death..." He babbled, his composure seemed to be taking a vacation in Johannesburg and no one had sent it a memo about the bus time. Taking a deep breath, he reached into a pocket swapping the earphones for a set of earbuds, offering one up to the attractive nation. "Do you like music?"

She silently took the offered device and frowned at it, "why are you being so nice to me?"

Netherlands wished for one moment that he were any other nation on the planet, just so he wouldn't have to be in this situation. "We're friends, right?"

Belarus scowl deepened, "friends? I don't recall ever offering any alliance to you."

The florist nation felt his mouth go dry, "well I mean we could be friends. If you wanted that is."

Her expression softened, "friends..." She slid the earbud in then glared up at him, "put on the music."

Netherlands did as told and started up the music, his arm resting on the seat, while his hand rubbed the side of his head awkwardly. He knew better than to make any move, the florist nation knew of far better ways to die than being gutted on a bus to a soccer game. Summoning his full willpower he watched Belarus quietly. Most would be hasty to point out the well-crafted features of the smaller nation's face, the long hair that framed her face and the dress that suited her petite form perfectly. Most would agree that she was beautiful, and also very crazy. But the florist nation knew better, this was a girl who had a deep wound in her heart, who had never known much away from her family. He wondered vaguely if being friends first would be the way to go. At any rate he didn't have many people he considered friends either, so this would benefit both of them.

But then Netherlands watched her eyes grow blurry, and he realized what song had come on. Stupid America sending him music, normally he deleted whatever poppy crap the other nation sent but this song had caught his attention, Japan had mentioned it when he'd contacted Netherlands about a new game. The Asian nation had mentioned that this song would be the international release theme song for a new popular video game. So he'd reluctantly downloaded the file, and found the song to be decent. Sadly he felt his eyelids grow heavy and soon drifted off to sleep.

Belarus had started to shake again while she listened to the song, tears threatening to spill over. She let her head tilt slightly so her hair blocked her face from view, lately it seemed all she did anymore was cry. Her body ached from the sobbing, from the pain of part of her realizing her brother was far beyond her reach while the other part refused to accept it. This wasn't like her at all; the blond nation had always stood strong. She'd faced down bullets, spears, swords, arrows, and cannons. And to that end Belarus had stood strong by her family and allies, but this was her first encounter with a foe she could not best. Fatigue and sorrow finally overcame her and she leaned back in the seat wondering what she would do to remedy the situation.

The bus pulled to a stop a few hours later. Belarus awoke to warmth covering her shoulders and forehead. Opening her eyes slowly to the fading light she saw she'd fallen asleep on someone in the crook of their neck and shoulder. Drawing back hastily she remembered she'd been sitting next to Netherlands, and the pair drifted to sleep on top of one another. She stood up angrily, why she even chose to come on this ridiculous excursion? Oh that was right, Belgium had said it might prove worth her while. Storming off of the bus, she walked to the hotel door and checked in glaring daggers at anyone in her way.

Netherlands yawned a few minutes later and stretched feeling the warm spot where Belarus had fallen asleep on him. He stood up rubbing where her head had lain on his shoulder before stumbling half asleep off of the bus. The florist nation took his things from the bus and wandered to the hotel before he checked into his room. Netherlands didn't bother changing instead opting to go back to sleep on the bed.

The next morning Netherlands boarded the bus in his soccer gear ready to take on Japan. He found the other nation standing on the field bent over and stretching out his legs. "Hey Japan," Netherlands muttered as he approached. "You doing okay?"

"Oh, Netherlands," Japan stood up and bowed, which the florist nation reciprocated, "I feel much better, thank you." He gave a slight smile, "did you like the music I sent you?"

The larger nation nodded, "definitely." Feeling two sets of eyes on the back of his head, he turned to find both Greece and Turkey glaring at him. Apparently even bitter rivals could put aside their differences for the sake of spiting a third party. "Are you ready for this?"

Japan waved up into the stands, sensing that the two nations in the stands would like nothing more than to beat Netherlands to a bloody pulp. "I suppose so."

They rejoined their teams for the remainder of the warm up period. Netherlands took a deep breath of the air before lining up along side his team. He glanced over at the refs, two humans plus some island nation and Iceland. The florist nation jogged over to the Nordic, "good to see you up and about."

"Likewise," Iceland muttered, "I still feel sick. And…" he trailed off awkwardly, "er, I'll tell you later, right now it's game time."

The teams lined up, anthems played, and the captaining nations shook hands. Japan handed over the banner along with a branch of cherry blossoms. Netherlands reciprocated with a clutch of spider lilies. The human referee held up the coin, Japan nodded, "heads please."

The coin turned up heads, and Japan took the kickoff. Netherlands shrugged, zero for two in coin tosses. He jogged off to the midfield line, trying to ignore Turkey and Greece jeering at him. "Kick his pansy ass Japan!" the former shouted angrily.

"Kill him," muttered Greece. Netherlands frowned slightly; didn't Greece have his own team to worry about? What was he doing here? Shrugging Netherlands heard the kickoff whistle and flew into action to take the ball away from Japan. The smaller nation dodged swiftly charging down the field. He passed it off before pausing by Netherlands.

"I am terribly sorry about my friends," Japan muttered.

"'S okay, I'm used to it." The florist nation glanced at his friend.

"What are you doing fraternizing with the enemy Japan! Get in there and kick him in the balls before you talk to him! Greece help me out here!" Turkey roared angrily.

"Play to win Japan," Greece added before unhooking a cat that had started to claw at his shirt.

Japan bowed briefly before both nations charged into action. During the brief argument, the Oranje defense had regained possession of the ball. A swift pass flew over to Netherlands; he popped it off of his chest and onto his thigh before it settled into the grass. He started to dribble it down the field towards Japan's goal. He passed it off around the defenseman coming towards him, off to one of his midfielders. The florist nation watched the ball tipped over the line by one of the defensemen. His teammate lined up to the corner and he stepped in next to Japan. The smaller nation leaned against him; his arms wrapped securely around one of the larger nation's. The ball flew into the air, Netherlands broke away from Japan and powered into the air. He ducked his head and muscled the ball into the back of the net off of his forehead.

The ref called for a goal, while the Oranje swarmed their captain heroically. He gave them a small smile before ordering them back onto the field to continue the game. He glanced up into the stands, "keep focused Japan! Kick this spiky headed bastard into next week!" Turkey shouted standing up.

"You can't lose now," Greece added on sternly.

Netherlands jogged over to Japan, "hey you okay?"

"Yes, I am fine, I just wish they would stop causing you trouble." The Asian nation replied grimly.

"Like I said, I'm used to it, you just focus on the game. Deal?" The Oranje captain held up a pinky.

"Deal," Japan bowed and locked their pinkies briefly.

After that the game passed with both nations fighting fiercely for possession. Japan just barely missed the far post off of a corner kick when half time was called. Netherlands smiled slightly before frowning as he ran back into the locker room. The coach gave them some advice, after which Netherlands gave some strategies, before they ran back out for the second half. The florist nation stood on the centerline with his foot atop the ball before kicking it off to his teammate. He jogged over to the sideline where once again Turkey was screaming at him.

"Japan! Kick this flower boy's ass already! I'm going hoarse heckling him!" Turkey roared angrily.

Japan sighed and took a pass from his teammate before dodging past Netherlands towards the goal. The florist nation gave chase but it was too late. The smaller nation had charge past the Oranje defense before shooting the ball deep into the back of the net. The whistle blew while Japan disappeared in a sea of teammates. Netherlands gave a small smile of approval; at the very least it'd shut up Turkey and Greece for a while. Summoning up his willpower, Netherlands took the ball and kicked it back to his defense. He'd end this in truly spectacular fashion, a golden goal late at the second half.

The captain of the Oranje glanced up at the clock to check the time left in the match. He had ten minutes; this would be epic, though it would mean that Turkey and Greece would probably try to beat the crap out of him. He batted around with the midfield for a moment before letting one of them move it up the box. That drained away some time for sure, five minutes left in the game. The florist nation sprinted forward with Japan hot on his heels. He didn't even have time to look for the ball when the cross pass came towards him. Leaping into the air, Netherlands slammed the ball with his foot into the top corner scoring the second goal for his side.

Unfortunately this just aggravated Turkey and Greece. The nations frowned. "Oh come on! Do you get off on being this cool?" Turkey roared.

"I will kill you," Greece muttered quietly, exerting an aura more commonly associated with Russia and Belarus.

Netherlands shrugged as the whistle blew for the match to end. He walked over to Japan and they shook hands before the florist nation ripped off his shirt. "Good match man," the large nation ruffled the Asian's hair.

"Thank you, you too." Japan replied handing Netherlands his own jersey. "If you'll excuse me," he bowed, sensing the blatant hostility from Turkey and Greece.

Netherlands sighed and threw the shirt over his shoulder before looking around the stands to see if Belarus was in. He didn't see any sign of her, which was disappointing. But he didn't have time to focus on that for long. Something grabbed his hand and dragged him away roughly. He discovered Iceland was the one taking him away. The timekeeping nation had dragged the larger one off of the pitch and into the locker room. Whoa boy Hungary would have a field day with this if she ever found out what was happening. Still Netherlands was used to this sort of thing. He often found himself dragged along when he needed to be a therapist. "What's up chill factor?"

"Don't call me that, I don't need your chastising right now! Ukraine and I broke up!" Iceland bit his lip and folded his arms.

The florist nation crossed his arms while he closed his eyes, "how did it end?"

"We both agreed it was for the best but I still feel like crap." He muttered.

Netherlands thought for a while, "you my friend need a drink." Contrary to popular belief, the florist nation didn't have any sort of planned response for every occasion. If anything he mostly just made it up as he went along. Pulling on a jacket, Netherlands led Iceland from the stadium to the bus back to Johannesburg. They arrived several hours later and Netherlands guided the Nordic into Belgium's bar.

Iceland sat at the bar, "shot of your strongest," he muttered.

"Advocaat sis," Netherlands greeted.

Belgium raised an eyebrow, and then frowned suspiciously. "What'd you do to Espen?"

"It wasn't me!" Netherlands defended. "He and Yekaterina broke up."

The bartending nation nodded wisely, "I see. I'm sorry to here that Espen. Did you and Katyusha end on good terms though?"

He nodded slightly with a sigh, "yeah, we're still friends. It was just, y'know…"

He trailed off downing the rest of his drink in one go. Belgium gave him a sympathetic look before disappearing into the kitchen to help with Switzerland and cooking. A few moments later and the door opened again revealing Belarus gently guiding Ukraine to the bar. She sat down on the stool next to Netherlands giving him a sidelong glare.

The florist nation tilted his head, _well this is awkward_, he thought picking up his drink. Belgium stuck her head through the order window and noticed the new customers. She hastily returned out to the front. "Natalia, Katyusha, haven't seen you two in ages!"

"Hey Belle," Ukraine smiled at her. "House special for two if you don't mind."

"No trouble at all," she smiled kindly at her friends, "and let me know if the big oaf over here gives you any trouble." With that she disappeared into the kitchen to start cooking.

Sighing Netherlands took another drink, "so… er Natalia how are you?"

"Fine," she replied angrily, then sensing her tone she shifted to something slightly more civilized, "and you?"

"Well enough." He turned his head slightly to look at her, "did you catch the match?"

"Part of it," she sighed, "I got called away before half time. What happened?"

"I won, but I think Turkey and Greece want my head on a pike now." He replied, feeling the tension ebbing slightly from the conversation.

Belarus managed to crack a slight smile, "you're not the most popular guy are you."

"Well… not where it counts," he replied thinking of the legions of fans including an obsessive stalker. Unfortunately, it was one of the taboos of nations to fall for humans. Prussia could still be seen visibly angsting about Fredrick the Great when he thought no one was watching. Not to mention both England and France had their share of love for a boss, Elizabeth the First and Joan d'Arc.

"I suppose not," the smaller nation considered before Belgium brought out her dinner.

An uneasy silence fell over the group; Ukraine and Iceland hadn't said much during the whole escapade. When the group of four paid and left for the hotel, Netherlands finally worked up some of his famed composure and courage. "So Belarus… what's say you and me go on a date?"

Belarus froze in her tracks, and then glared at the florist nation. "When?"

"How about day after tomorrow at Belgium's place?" He asked hopefully.

She considered, "fine if you insist." She turned to Ukraine, "see you then," the smaller nation noted briefly before walking away with her sister.

Iceland glared at Netherlands, "you think you're hot stuff don't you?"

The florist nation merely raised an eyebrow, "if you must know this will be the first date in my life."

The Nordic staggered slightly, "seriously? Wasn't this the plot of a movie? Guy who gives out dating advice meets a girl and falls in love but has no idea what to do?" He frowned, "oh man this will be delicious to watch."

"You make it sound like I'm going on Iron Chef," Netherlands sighed. To be fair he'd probably have an easier time of it on the famed cooking show. Still the two nations bid one another farewell leaving him to walk back to his room and contemplate said date.

**

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A/N:** So basically things are heating up for the couple! Whose cuisine reigns supreme? We'll find out when House of Orange returns! Oh wait wrong series, my bad. Next chapter will feature a cameo from the final member of my five-man band for my NaNoWriMo this year. Other than that I have no idea why Iceland's getting excited about watching Netherlands struggle… Could this be a potential triangle? Find out on the next episode!


	8. Flower Parade

**A/N:** Happy New Year everyone, I'm sorry for not updating. School ate my soul, so this chapter is as much a surprise to me as to you. I finally figured out where I wanted this story to go to, I think the 2010 Bloodbath event helped. So without further ado, onto the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

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Two days later and Netherlands was pacing back and forth in his room that evening trying to figure out what to wear. He scowled at his wardrobe; he hadn't planned on this sort of activity at all. In the end he ended up wearing his normal outfit of a tan military uniform with a three-piece coat and his trademark scarf. He picked up a bouquet of flowers and walked from the room to the elevator. Once he reached the appropriate floor the florist nation knocked on the door. It opened a moment later on Belarus standing in a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks with a long purple plaid scarf.

Netherlands swallowed and offered up the flowers to her, "ready to go?"

She took the bouquet gently setting them on the counter by the door. "Ready," Belarus muttered checking to make sure she had a room key. Together they left the hotel for the bar, silent in the cold air.

The couple arrived at the bar to find a near empty bar save for some regulars. Australia, New Zealand, and a few other nations were up at the bar. Meanwhile France was weeping into his napkin with England rubbing his back. He'd probably hear about that in the morning. The two took a booth near the window, "how're you this evening?"

Belarus raised an eyebrow, "well enough. Spent the day at a safari park with Ukraine. I thought lions were supposed to be tough."

Netherlands restrained himself from pointing out that any lion in its right mind would be terrified of her. Instead he shrugged, "maybe the stories aren't all they're cracked up to be."

Belarus shrugged, "could be." She broke off looking up at the latest patrons to walk in. Russia and Estonia wandered in, with Russia bee lining for one of the Pacific nations at the bar, a former territory turned independent or something. Estonia sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling Russia off and over to the corner of the room.

At the table, Belarus clenched her fists glaring angrily at the back of Estonia's head. Netherlands quickly moved his head into the line of sight. "Hey, what else was there at the animal park? You had to have seen some other stuff right?"

"Don't try and make me feel better. I know my brother, and nothing will stop me from my goal." She gave him a death glare before turning to Switzerland, carrying out their meal.

"Belle would like me to remind you that all declarations of war must be done outside. Failure to obey this will result in me shooting you." He announced before setting their food in front of them, "Enjoy."

The meal passed in silence; at least until Netherlands picked up a long leaf of paper, "you want some desert?"

"Don't just assume I like sweets," Belarus snapped.

"Sorry…" Netherlands muttered feeling his face going a little red.

"That said though, I will have some if you want to split it." The florist nation glanced up and saw she was frowning but a light pink blush had crossed her face while her eyes fixated out the window. He thought she looked rather cute like that.

Netherlands nodded and waved his sister over, "oy Belle! Vla and two spoons would ya?"

His reply was a dirty, soaked rag to the face. "Coming right up asshole!"

The florist nation removed the rag to the sound of faint laughter. He blinked to find Belarus with her mouth pressed to the back of her hand with her eyes closed. He felt his eyebrows crease with downwards with a smile. "Guessing I deserved that one then?"

"You did," She laughed quietly.

"Oh man, now you're turning on me too?" He gave a slight tilt of his head.

She shrugged slowly dropping her smile back to a frown, "what do you mean?"

He thought for a minute, "well my sister and I don't really get along… and it's kind of a joke how everyone thinks we're great siblings. In reality she hates me, can't say I blame her. I hate me too." He ran a hand through his hair, "I'm such a bastard…" The florist nation closed his eyes with his jaw clenched.

Belarus regarded him for a moment while he took a long swig of beer. The nation in front of her had been described as 'cool', though she recalled one girls' night out after a particularly dull World Conference. She and Belgium had gotten in an argument over who had the worst brother between them. In the end they'd both agreed that their brothers tied for the worst nations on the face of the planet. Russia was so preoccupied with the rest of the world he never gave Belarus any attention at all save for crying, screaming and running away. It killed her to never get any attention from him! Refocusing on the nation in front of her she wondered if maybe Belgium hadn't been wrong at least a little. "I," she paused wondering if what she wanted to say would help. "I don't hate you. You're the first nation that's not Ukraine to bother with showing me kindness." Swallowing she managed to finish, "thank you."

Netherlands blinked; he hadn't expected to hear that. "You're welcome," he managed before Switzerland brought desert and grabbed the rag.

Both of them tucked into the vla in peace, when they finished Netherlands paid the bill and together they walked out into the Johannesburg evening. "So what do you want to do now?"

"I'd like to take a walk," Belarus replied.

The florist nation offered up his arm, she ignored it and he let it fall defeated to his side down the long path of flags lining the concrete walkway to Soccer City. "Hey Belarus, what sorts of hobbies do you have?"

"Hobbies," she paused thinking, "Reading is a big one. And I like flowers. Not many can survive the winters in my house but I still love them. You?"

"Flowers mostly, though I love football too," he smiled slightly, a common interest in horticulture! "So what sorts of flowers to you like?"

"Lilacs and centaureas," she continued. "You?"

"Tulips and poppies," he replied smiling. "Though I love all sorts of flowers. They're far easier to deal with than other nations."

"Tell me about it," Belarus muttered, "I mean just the other day I saw France hitting on Ukraine."

"Is that why he was in the full body cast?"

"No, I only broke his jaw and a few ribs, the rest of it was England's handy work."

Netherlands nodded, "is that right?" He scratched the back of his head smiling, "sounds pretty cool." Normally he didn't like violence against innocents, but considering it was France, the florist nation gleefully made an exception. "You really care about Ukraine don't you."

"Are you insinuating something?" She snapped angrily.

Netherlands blinked, "no!" He paused, "I was just thinking how nice it is that you watch out for each other. I wish I had someone like that."

"Oh," Belarus sighed calming down. "I see."

"My sister and I, all we do is fight. Luxembourg tries to keep the peace but Belgium hates my guts.

A silence formed between them as they walked through a park until Netherlands suddenly bounded forward climbing up the jungle gym. "Ah man, the view's fantastic!"

The blond nation looked up at him a little confused. "You're being childish."

"I grew up and put away all my fear including that of being childish." He hung upside down smiling at her. "Care to join me?" Belarus started to reply then froze as she turned towards the sound of footsteps. The florist nation twisted around seeing Russia and Estonia walking down the dirt path together.

Belarus stood there for a few moments, watching them with her fists clenched. Her eyebrows furrowed with her eyes narrowing. She stalked off leaving Netherlands alone hanging from the bar. The florist nation swung around and landed on his feet wanting to go after her but the two approaching nations distracted him.

"Ah Holland, good evening," Russia greeted politely.

Estonia smiled a little nervously, "yes good evening!"

"'Sup?" He replied frustrated and pulled out a cigarette sticking it in his mouth. Normally Netherlands would contradict the statement of being called 'Holland' but he was still more than a little afraid of Russia.

The taller nation smiled, "it's a nice night here, don't you agree?"

"'S okay," he sighed as he lit up. His night had been going much better until Russia chased off his date. "What're you two doing out here?"

"Enjoying the night air." He smiled.

The florist nation paled slightly as he let out a puff of smoke, "it is a nice night." His words came out curtly to indicate that he wanted to leave.

Russia studied the smoking nation, "is there any particular reason you were out here with my little sister?"

Netherlands swallowed whatever retort wanted to come out. He really didn't want the headlines of the paper tomorrow back home to read how he'd been bludgeoned to death by Russia. Choosing his next words carefully he started, "we were taking a walk."

Russia stepped towards the florist nation, and out of the corner of his eye the nation watched Estonia shrinking away. If the Baltic was frightened by this display then something terrible was about to happen. Netherlands eyes met with Russia's, "you don't want me as your enemy Holland. Now what were you doing with my little sister?"

"I told you we took a walk." He replied again.

Russia put a hand on Netherland's cheek, "let me give you some advice, Belarus will never have me. She doesn't love you. She is just manipulating you to get to me. Save yourself some heartbreak my friend and give up now before you become a victim of misfortune." He paused to smile, "after all I want to be the one to make your face contort with pain."

Netherlands felt his legs growing weak and the cigarette dangled limply from his mouth. Still, he forced himself upright, "I'll keep that in mind. Now if you gents will excuse me, I've got an o' dark thirty training session tomorrow. Good night." With that he brushed past Russia, and gave Estonia a sidelong intimidating glance while taking a drag on his cigarette. He didn't like being a jerk especially when it could come back and bite him later. But he couldn't stop thinking about what Russia had said. The nation wandered around for a few hours through the city thinking over his feelings. When he finally returned to the hotel, the clock had just struck two in the morning. Sighing, he entered his room, trying to come up with a plan of action.

**

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A/N:** Ah Russia, creepy and mysterious as always, or maybe that's just me. But it seems that everything is falling in place, I apologize for a lack of soccer in this installment, next up is Netherlands vs. Cameroon.


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